Nothing
by RavenInTheNight
Summary: Based off the panfandom RPG Sweet Escape on LiveJournal   Heracles misses his home. Time for the cat-guy to indulge in dog-like activities. Greece x Candace, my new OTP. :33


**Characters:** Greece and Candace :I

**Location:** ...BON BON VILLAGE |D Probably the "forest".

**Time:** Nighttime sounds good.

**Summary:** Heracles misses his home. Time for the cat-guy to indulge in dog-like activities.

**Warnings:** References to violence? :?

Heracles awoke from another mental replay of that day. That day when a simple slip had nearly gotten him killed. That day when his favorite animal became his worst nightmare.

He awoke screaming, like he had back in the days when he was under Turkish rule. Abandonning his calm nature, it became necessary for him to run out of his house. Run to the meadow that everyone considered the "forest".

He knew there were no shovels. Shovels could be weapons, Candace allowed nothing threatening. That didn't matter. He just had to dig. He ripped into the earth with his bare hands, desperate to find something underground.

He found nothing. He dug until his hands were burning and cut and he was close to crying. He dug a foot into the earth and found nothing. This wasn't home. At home, these late-night digs would always find him an interesting trinket, a vase, an ornament, a piece of rubble, something from his country's past. Here there was only dirt. Candy-flavored dirt. Everything tasted of sweet sugary goodness, which burned him with memories of Turkey's candy obsession.

Nothing was familiar. Nothing. He was alone, there were no traces of Japan or Mother Greece or... damn it, not even Turkey or Israel!

Heracles collapsed from exhaustion and looked up at the moon. Any other night he would see the rabbit that Japan had pointed out, making mochi. He'd shown it to Tezca. It was company. It was gone.

"You shouldn't be out here at this time of night, sweetheart. Who knows what you'll find. Or what will find you."

"There is nothing here..." Heracles didn't even turn. He kept his back to the beautiful woman behind her. She was the cause for his worries.

Candace sat by him and offered a bottle of ouzo. Heracles hesitated. "How do I know that's not poisoned or something...?"

Candace tried a hurt face, but Heracles could tell she was only annoyed, "Don't you trust me?"

"No..." Heracles scowled, "Skyla..."

"I told you, I'm no skyla." Candace shrugged, "If you don't want it, you can be polite about it."

"I suppose you're skilled in kindness..."

Candace scowled, "Don't try my patience... honey."

Heracles sighed and took the bottle. He didn't want another argument. She might kill off more cats. And on a slightly less important note, one of them could get hurt.

"You never told me what you were doing here. It's not nice to dig in someone's lawn, honey."

"..." Heracles sighed, "She's not here..."

"...Who? Your wife?"

Oh, lovely. Candace thought he was hitting on her behind a wife's back. "My mother... Ancient Greece... back home, I could find remnants in the past just by digging..."

"Hm."

"...Opa..." Heracles sipped his ouzo. Now he'd calmed down, and he could see the rabbit on the moon. It was still there. There were bits of the real world in this twisted fantasy after all.

"...Candace..."

"...Excuse me, what was that?"

"Nothing... omorfi..." Heracles felt himself suddenly able to forgive Candace. Maybe it was the strong liquor going to his head. Suddenly, the cats didn't matter so much. They were demon cats, not real ones. Candace was still beautiful. With a beautiful name that he wanted the prilevage of calling her aloud.

"...Would you like some...?" he offered her the bottle.

"...If it pleases you, dear." Candace reluctantly reached for it.

He gently took her hand and pulled her closer. He knew he would be killed for this. But at the moment, it didn't matter so much. If he died after this, he'd die a happy man. Soon their lips were touching. Soon he was shoved away with a slash from a knife across his chest. And Heracles regretted nothing.

TO TELOS. 8I


End file.
